


In Arms

by Ryu_Reikai_Akuma



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Overthinking, Quest of Erebor, Secret Relationship, Sleepy Cuddles, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 00:50:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17193383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryu_Reikai_Akuma/pseuds/Ryu_Reikai_Akuma
Summary: It was a long quest and Thorin started to doubt himself.





	In Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Last fic of 2018! It’s been an... interesting year. Maybe I should’ve written more, but frankly this kind of thought just makes me lose motivation to write and/or edit.

Sometimes, Thorin doubted himself. He feared, despite fully believing that he done the right thing by accepting course set for him by his father and grandfather, he was taking on a hopeless endeavor. Before him, Middle Earth laid, an endless expanse of land, water, fire, and dangers. Day after day after day, he and his company traveled on their ponies, yet still more distance remained uncovered. Sturdy though dwarves were, they were not immune to the effects of the elements. Here above ground, far from rocks they were born from, they were vulnerable to the mercies of the whims of nature. Even worse, while they had had nothing but safe travel so far, Thorin knew there were threats hidden just out of sight. In the days before Ered Luin was founded, he had lost many of his remaining people to the creatures lurking at night to prey on the weak. Even in the more peaceful times after they had settled in their new home, they were never completely safe. Now, he led a group of twelve dwarfs, a hobbit, and a wizard, some of whom had little battle skill, across a distance filled with dangers to a home occupied by a dragon that had decimated a kingdom. They had been lucky so far, but Thorin wondered long the luck would last.

These thoughts gnawed Thorin’s mind the longer he went without seeing the familiar peak of the Lonely Mountain and the more time he spent at the mercies of the world, turning his mood foul. During the day, he was on the constant lookout for danger. The self-inflicted tension soon turned him irritable, snapping at everyone and criticizing every perceived mistake. The guilt that bore down on him at the sight of his companions keeping their distance from him only made him more disagreeable since he was too proud to apologize. It was his greatest flaw, his pride. Thorin had seen this failing in his grandfather and sometimes even in his father. Hadn’t he learnt from Thror’s mistakes? How many had warned him of this? What of his determination not to repeat his forefathers’ mistakes? How could he hope to win back Erebor when he went there carrying the same weakness that had made his people lose it in the first place? A deep fear that had long plagued him reared its head, haunting him in his every waking hour: Was he truly better than his grandfather or would he bring his people to ruin just as Thror had? What if he stepped into the same grievous path his grandfather had taken? Who would pulled him away from it? Could he be saved from it or was his blood too much stronger for him mind?

His closest kin kept their distance, even Kili who usually needed reminder to hold his affection in check. The rest of the company who didn’t know him as well whispered nervously, unsure of how to handle the disagreeableness of their leader. Only Gandalf seemed unperturbed, although Thorin knew that his patience was wearing thin – it was only a matter of time before Thorin’s flaring temper offended him. Yet, despite knowing all these, despite knowing himself and the consequences of his character, Thorin couldn’t stop himself. He could blame it on inherent trait of the dwarf race, but he knew that he was equally responsible for his lack of self-control, for his inability to reassure himself of the success of his plans, for his sharp tongue. He had failed himself and he couldn’t but think how he would fail others.

Another day passed, a few more miles were covered, yet the Lonely Mountain was still nowhere in sight. Their safety was but a temporary relief, clouded by the knowledge of an impending day of questing into the unknown. Thorin claimed a corner when they stopped for the night, hoping the solitude would help him calm himself. However, there was no privacy in a journey and the sight of the company, their easygoing way, the persistent optimism, their loyalty and faith in him, further tested his nerves. Would they still follow him if they knew his doubts? Would they still be loyal to him if they could read his thoughts? They should not. They deserved better than a failure of a king – another one. He was made their leader by blood, but the very same blood had cursed him with weaknesses no leader should have. They should abandon him, but the thought of it, of being left alone, of having his own people turning their backs toward him, filled Thorin with anguish. To serve his people as a king was all he knew. If he couldn’t do that, if they wouldn’t let him do that, then what should he do? What would he be?

The songs Bofur sang that night were quiet and full of longing. His voice, unaccompanied by music, rose to the dark night sky, filling their encampment with the sort of peace that always drew contemplation. So grim were the thoughts that came over Thorin that he barked an order for the company to sleep. In fear, the company obeyed and in trepidation. Thorin went to the spot he had chosen, the furthest he could find from his companions without jeopardizing anyone’s safety. He listened to them quietly quarreled to decide who should sleep close to him and yet more guilt pierced his heart. A leader should be respected, not feared, but now only his poor nephews were willing to be near him. Was he still worthy of being their leader? Did his sister-sons still think of him an example to follow? Thorin was not blind to how disillusioned Fili had been regarding him. No longer was he the wee child thinking his king uncle could do no wrong. He had now recognized and acknowledged Thorin’s deep flaws and if he had not said anything about it, it was only due to his waning respect for Thorin. Kili had not yet realized this, but how long would the illusion last? How long until his love faded away and he joined the rank of those who rightly question Thorin’s authority?

One by one, the company fell into deep sleep, except for those assigned to keep guard for the night. Steady snores of the dwarves and gentle crackles of burning wood eased the mind and eased the path to dreams. That was to all but Thorin, who remained awake, alternately staring at the blackness behind his eyelids and watching the darkness surround the company. Neither view calmed him, his mind still filled with countless questions, prospects, plans, and the many ways the quest could go wrong. He could fail. Perhaps he _would_ fail – his father never returned, after all. Perhaps he was wrong to heed to the wizard’s call for action. Perhaps Gandalf was wrong. Perhaps it would be better for his people if the task fell to Fili. His young heir, his sister-son would make a much better king than he could be. Not Thorin’s own son, not his own flesh and blood, for he couldn’t bring himself to produce any, for his interests lay in the path that ended his bloodline, for he was selfish and refused to yield his desire. He already failed the Durin’s Folks long before the quest, even before the dragon. What if he failed again?

Thorin startled when an arm was slung over his waist. He had begun to reach for his sword before he remembered that it was only Kili, who had foolishly decided to sleep beside him. His body, remembering the warm solidity of Kili’s body, immediately lost its tension, slackening like heated metal. The tautness of his muscles evaporated slowly but surely with every soft exhalation caressing the back of his neck and teasing tendrils of his greying hair. An alarmed thought reminded Thorin of the dangers of relaxing his guard, but it evaporated quickly. Kili’s hand pressed gently against his abdomen in reminiscent of countless of nights spent together in secret. In the dark Thorin could just make out the shape of it. It was the hand that had notched arrows and wielded swords for him, that had spilled blood in his name, that had shared the weight of his responsibilities, that had caressed him with love, that had reminded him that there was more to the world aside from violence and greed. This was the hand that had held him (his purpose, his heart, his soul, his body) and never once let him down, for even in failure Kili was earnest in his devotion.

So long he had gone without anyone showing their affection for him that Thorin was overcome. The thought that perhaps he was still wanted despite his failings seemed impossible, yet tempting. With each second that passed with the arm holding him close, the solid bulk keeping him safe, he increasingly found peace within himself. Thorin ought to tell Kili to move – they had agreed before they left for the quest that they would withhold all signs of affection. However, Thorin couldn’t bear to do it. He couldn’t part from the warm chest pressing against his back and the strong arm keeping him near and protected. In the weeks that had passed since he last allowed intimacy, it seemed that he had forgotten contentment. This, he remembered now, was why he let Kili returned to his chambers again and again, why he had called Kili there many times over, and why he had deigned to sneak into Kili’s chambers in turn. This, the loosening of the tight grip that he hadn’t realized had wrapped around his chest, the disappearance of the dark thoughts that had assaulted his mind, the return of peace to his warring mind and heart, were why Thorin was devoted to him as he devoted himself to his duties. Lightly, Thorin traced the back of Kili’s hand, wishing he could bring it to his lips to give it a thousand kisses he had denied from both of them.

The touch stirred Kili. He grunted quietly in confusion, his arm tightening around Thorin temporarily before he remembered himself. “Oh. ’m sorry,” he murmured sleepily.

When Kili made to pull away, Thorin held his wrist. “Stay.”

Kili paused, then sighed quietly. He shifted to make himself more comfortable, forehead resting against the back of Thorin’s head, nose just brushing the skin of Thorin’s neck. His broad palm moved upward to rest against Thorin’s chest and Thorin couldn’t but remember how Kili usually loved sleeping to the sound of his heartbeats and how Thorin himself never slept better than when he held his lover in his arms. There remained some space between them to allow excuses that this was a natural result of no more than a restless sleep. Should someone see them, there would be no suspicion that there were lovers instead of merely uncle and sister-son. But the love between them was far from familial and innocent. The connection they shared was nothing like what they had with others. Even now in silence and with limited ways to show affection, Thorin could feel it. His body wasn’t the only thing that recognized Kili. Something unnamed inside him knew him, too, and calmed and filled with deep-seated affection at the nearness of him.

“I want to ride beside you tomorrow.” Even slurred, there was resoluteness in Kili’s words.

It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t a suggestion. Thorin wondered if he understood what he was demanding and quickly berated himself for doubting it. Kili might ignore his flaws, but he was always watchful for his needs. Thorin didn’t always know how to express his private needs and showed them instead in ill temperaments. Many, even his closest friends, interpreted cantankerousness as a sign for them to give him space to come to terms with himself. Thorin himself had gotten used to ignoring his wishes until they dispersed eventually. But, Kili knew. He understood. Thorin knew not how Kili saw through him when he had built a wall around himself, but he did when others wisely turned away from Thorin. Now, as he had done many times before (and would hopefully continue to do still in the future), he gave what Thorin needed but could not say: companionship, loyalty, assurance, and love.

“All right,” Thorin breathed, relieved.

A fleeting kiss was pressed to the base of his neck. Soon, Thorin heard the steady breaths that indicated that Kili had fallen asleep again. Thorin remained awake a while longer. Some disquiet of his mind still persisted, but it slowly went completely silent and was replaced by rediscovered confidence. Kili was more forgiving than most – perhaps even too forgiving for his own good – but perhaps his understanding of Thorin’s predicament was a sign that Thorin would not be truly shunned after all. There still was a chance of failure – he knew not what tomorrow would bring – and he knew his temperament enough to know that he would test his company further in the future. However, he saw again now there was also a chance of success. He had brought with him his strongest warriors to protect the company and fight any threat. The dragon hadn’t been seen in years and even if it hadn’t perished, he had his soldiers, burglar, and wizard. Dain, too, only needed assurance that Thorin had arrived in Erebor to come to his aid. And should he succumb to the same failing his grandfather had, he had people with him who would bring him back to the right path – by force if necessary. Indeed right now, the reclamation of Erebor seemed to be farfetched dream, but it could very well soon be reality. Thorin _would_ make it reality.

Thorin inhaled a lungful of cold night air. He let it fill his chest the way confidence once more filled his heart. Whatever the outcome of this quest, he was determined to give his all in completing his kingly duty. He had his loyal company, his faithful kin, his best soldiers, and his devoted lover. It would not be easy, but difficult didn’t mean impossible. Slowly releasing the breath, Thorin put his hand atop Kili’s and squeezed it gently. Behind him, Kili murmured something that didn’t sound like words at all. Smiling fondly, Thorin closed his eyes. Soon he was asleep, peaceful, loved, and safe in his lover’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this raft is losing some of the few passengers it has on board, but I’m staying because I’m stubborn, I have a fixation, and I haven’t found any new ship with interesting (read: has dark and disturbing potentials, but is also kind of sweet) dynamics yet. So, you will probably see more of me next year.
> 
> For now I can still be found on [tumblr](http://demonessryu.tumblr.com/).


End file.
